


Start of Something Good

by devdev2017



Series: It's Not Over [2]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: All hail Zeus! (You'll only get that reference if you've read the first book in the series, Also I'm asking for votes, BAMF Carl continues to be awesome, Daryl and Rick are good Dads, For more information and WD awesomeness read inside, Hurt Daryl Dixon, M/M, Michonne starts training people to be a BAMF like her, Multi, Rick has a sword, The Vatos are back thanks to someone who left a review, how is that not a tag already?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-02-07 20:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12848781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devdev2017/pseuds/devdev2017
Summary: Hershel woke up to a world where he hadn't lost his leg, his farm, or his family. Facing the possibility that those things might come to pass he prepares. But will it be enough?Rick and Daryl are leading their family towards the Greene Farm. A run in with some old acquaintances makes things both better and worse.Merle is being his asshole self. Shane pouts. Lori is...well Lori. Plus Rick and Daryl are trying to keep everyone alive while dealing with the trauma of the past. Carl is frustrated, he's a grown man in a kid's body.And then there's the matter of Judith.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay readers as promised here's the second in this series. There's a lot going on right now. And a lot of different directions this could go in. So I'm asking for y'all to vote on a pair of issues.
> 
> Issue 1: What should Daryl's code name be? Personally I'm thinking either Apollo or Artemis as they both are god and goddess of the hunt, respectively. Does anyone have another suggestion? Don't stick with just common names either. Look at Carl's, his is Soter an obscure greek mythological belief, the physical embodiment of safety, preservation, and deliverance from harman. 
> 
> Y'all have 3 chapters to suggest names. After that I'll whittle it down to three or five, depending on how many are suggested. You will have until chapter 6 to vote on one of those choices.
> 
> Issue 2: Judith's birth. Now for the most part I've stuck to the general script of the TV vers with a few dashes of comic book and of course my own retelling. I've clearly set it up to where Judith is not the child of either Rick or Shane and neither of them are with her at the moment. And I could play it out like this...
> 
> Or I could write this as an Mpreg. Having either Rick or Daryl give birth to Judie. 
> 
> You have until chapter 4 to vote.

When Hershel Green woke up after having his head cut off by the Governor he thought he’d gone crazy. His wife, Annette, was sleeping peacefully next to him. He turned to find his crutches, but stopped when he saw he still had his leg. He ripped the covers off and started sobbing. Sure he’d gotten used to only having one leg, but there had always been that lingering ache at knowing his body wasn’t whole.

He flinched when Annette place a hand on his shoulder, “Honey what’s wrong?”

“You ever have a dream-An impossible dream,” he was muttering nonsense. Trying to understand what had happened. His wife was talking, but he couldn’t hear her through the haze. It felt so real. Had God deemed to give him a second chance? He’d have to wait and see. Could be that things would be worse this time around. He didn’t see how that was possible, but scripture said that God had made many impossible things possible.

“-Hershel you’re scaring me,” Annette finally broke through to him.

“I had a dream. Lost my leg. I’m sorry for scaring you, I scared myself,” Hershel confessed.

“That sounds awful. Want a cup of tea?” she offered. He was happy to accept. Tea, what a commodity. After the tea was made his wife went back to bed. Hershel got out Beth’s laptop. Determined to find someone from…whatever that was. If he did he’d know it was real. If not he’d chock it up to an overactive imagination.

His first thought was Rick, but the man had confessed that he hadn’t be into social media so there might not be much to find. Still it was worth a shot. What he found was an article about a couple of sheriff’s deputies from King County arresting a man who had taken his ex-wife and kids hostage. There was more but all Hershel needed was the picture.

There in his deputy’s uniform stood Rick Grimes. It confirmed everything. The question was would the man remember too? Would anyone? Clearly his wife didn’t, what about the girls? He decided to go ahead and look up everyone’s contact information if he could. If he started hearing reports about zombies he’d give them a call.

That settled he set to work, only it was slow going. Finding Rick hadn’t been hard. The others took some time. He’d finally gotten through the list right when his family started waking up.

“Oh, honey did you stay up all this time?” Annette asked.

“Yea, couldn’t sleep. Decided to look up some old friends on the laptop,” he explained. She got to cooking breakfast. The smell drawing the kids from bed. He nearly cried when he saw his son. Knowing he couldn’t handle the emotions he was feeling he made some excuse about checking the news.

He stared numbly at the TV.

“It’s terrible isn’t it?” Beth leaned on the back of the couch.

“What?” he asked, startled.

“That tornado destroying all them houses,” she jutted her chin at the TV. It showed homes flattened by the storm. He hummed in agreement.

“I heard that the whole county wouldn’t have power for two weeks, maybe longer,” Maggie joined them. Beth wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t know what I’d do without electricity for two weeks,” his youngest confessed.

“What’s worse is people don’t realize how much we rely on electricity,” Hershel shook his head. He’d always considered himself independent of the big city and its problems. He hadn’t realized how dependent their farm was on electricity.

“Well yea, not being able to watch TV or blow-dry my hair would suck,” Beth said.

“It doesn’t stop there. We depend on electricity for everything these days. The county uses electricity to power the filtering process for water. The people who have electric stoves are plum out of luck. Not to mention the gas stations,”

“What do you mean?” Shawn had joined them at some point.

“They require electricity to bring the gas up from the containers it’s stored in,” he explained. He could go on and on.

“So if someone hadn’t filled up their tank they probably won’t be able to drive?” Maggie stared at him as the thoughts churned in her mind.

“What if that happened here?” Beth asked.

“You know, I’ve been thinking that myself,” Hershel began forming an idea. Even if the dead didn’t start rising, he’d at least be prepared for the normal disasters. That day after the kids had gone off to school he gave Ottis the run of the place. He sat his wife down and talked to her about making the farm self-sufficient.

“But what you’re talking about is expensive. We’d have to take a loan out on the house!” she protested.

“Most of what we are going to do will pay for itself within a year,” he reasoned, though he wasn’t certain of his argument. He knew things like solar panels would help lower functioning costs.

“I just don’t know,”

“What if this area got hit by a tornado, like Coffman County did?” he asked.

“Hershel-“

“We might be the only place that has electricity. Our neighbors would be able to depend on us,” he watched as she bit her lip, knowing he had her on the line he added, “I’ll make a garden like you’ve always wanted.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Fine, but I want a decent irrigation system for it too. Not just some sprinklers.”

“I can work with that,” Hershel’s smile split his face. He’d get his farm whipped into shape for the apocalypse. It would probably be a good idea to teach the kids how to shoot. They were all old enough now. His son had been pestering him something awful trying to get his old man to teach him. No time like the present.

The next day Hershel went to the bank and took out a loan. It was the biggest loan he’d ever taken out in his life. Normally he saved up money and bought things used. He went and hired a professional company to instal the solar panels. He asked though how easy it would be to move them to another location, just in case they decided to build another house on the property. He’d been told it would be less hassle to just get new ones, but that if he really had his heart set on only using what he had moving the solar panels wouldn’t be that hard.

He also asked if Jimmy could shadow them. He was determined that the boy would live this time. And if he did he could make himself useful and know something about solar panels. If the apocalypse didn’t happen well no harm in expanding the kid’s horizons.

While the workers were busy taking the farm off the grid he set about planning out the vegetable garden. Then decided some fruit trees wouldn’t be bad either. All their plants would be heirlooms. Good hardy stock. The seeds of which he’d save for the prison. There was no doubt in his mind that the prison would be where the family wound up at. Jimmy had been so fascinated by the solar panels that Hershel asked if he’d be interested in designing an irrigation system for the garden. The boy jumped at the chance, looking up everything he could about different irrigation systems.

Hershel decided that they’d be better off with some hard copies of different engineering feats and kindly gave them to Jimmy. He bought a few more books. Books on gardening which he gave to his wife. Books on building shelters, from tents to log cabins, which he gifted to his son. A set of books of celtic and american folk songs went to Beth. To Maggie he gave a set of books on knitting and sewing. When she had complained he’d shrugged again joked that she could always use kitting needles as a set of weapons. She’d given him a funny look at that. For himself he bought several books on survival which he read voraciously.

The family would have plenty to read once they arrived.

He also took up antiquing, a pastime that his wife had always enjoyed. Hershel sought out things from times before electricity. An old plow that would make farming easier, which he used as a decoration for the front of the house. His wife got a kick out of it. She threw in some old watering cans. He found all sorts of things, including a working hand-crank gramophone. Which he had fixed up. He started collecting vinyls. Knowing the family would appreciate some music that wasn’t from their own mouths.

While he didn’t regret the changes going on around his farm Hershel often wondered if he was crazy. That is until the day Jimmy stopped going into the barn. The young man skirted by the place like a cat skirted a dog. Not showing enough fear to be noticeable, but just enough to make one wonder.

As time went on Jimmy’ avoidance of the barn got worse. Two of the other farm hands started teasing him about it. Tormenting him really. One day Hershel had caught them trying to drag the young man word the barn. Jimmy was pale as a sheet and on the verge of tears. Hershel stepped in, sending the other two to muck stalls while he took Jimmy on a walk of the property.

“You going to tell an old man why you’ve suddenly gotten so scared of our barn?” he asked, not looking at Jimmy.

“It’s stupid,”

“I had a-dream that a walker bit my leg. That Rick had to chop it off to save me,” Hershel watched the farm hand’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. The kid hadn’t been there for any of that. Still his use of the word ‘walker’ and Rick’s name should be enough to clue him in. Jimmy stared with his mouth agape.

“You-you remember?” he stuttered.

“For a while I thought I was crazy,” the old farmer confessed.

“But, what happened-the walkers and all, you don’t think it’ll happen again do you?” Jimmy looked terrified.

“Up until today I wasn’t sure either way, but now? Yea, I’m positive it will. Only this time there won’t be no damn zombies in the barn,” he promised.

“That won’t stop the herd,” Jimmy shuttered.

“No, but we’ll be long gone by then,” Hershel stopped up on a hill. He stared out at the land his people had lived on for generations.

“Where will we go?” Jimmy asked.

“That depends on if anyone else remembers,” Hershel continued to look out at the landscape. It was still and quiet. It was not, however, the deathly still and quiet of the world he’d live through. There was no real sense of danger as he gazed along the rolling hills.

“Are you saying that we should wait for that crazy group to get here?” Jimmy shouted.

“We’re all dead without Rick and Daryl. Besides Maggie married Glen, makes him family. You don’t leave family,” Hershel turned away from the sight of farmland and forrest.

“What about my family? What am I supposed to do about them?”

“Convince them to come here. We’ll be better prepared. I’m going to try contacting the group as soon as the first reports come in. Try to get them here sooner,” he planned, no longer expecting Jimmy to listen. It was the first time he’d said out loud what he planned to do, even if only a part of the plan.


	2. Side of a Bullet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hay all, look at the End Notes to see what's happened so far with the votes

When the first news reports came out about a new strain of flu virus he started making calls. He was frustrated when he realized that Glenn had moved and he couldn’t find contact information for him. Next he tried Rick.

“Who is this?” a woman asked.

“Hershel Greene, I was hoping to speak to Rick, Rick Grimes?” he informed her.

“What did you want to talk to my husband about?” the woman, Lori he realized, asked. It was obvious she didn’t remember.

“I’m an old friend, just wanted to talk to him. If he’s available, if he’s at the station I’ll try him there,” Hershel added the last bit. His knowledge of Rick’s job made the lie more believable.

“He’s in a coma,” Lori’s words stopped him cold. It was happening. That’s when Rick said everything started going to hell, right when he went into a coma.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He was shot on the job, stupid man,” she cursed. Her words made Hershel’s blood boil. Rick was a good man. A hero and a natural born leader. Still she must be under a lot of stress. Her husband had been shot. Could very well still die as far as she knew. Lori had a young son to take care of on top of everything. She’d never handled stress well.

Except in one instance. He regretted not being there to insure she lived through the birth, or at least had a chance. If he’d only insisted on staying behind that day. He’d been their only trained doctor what had he been thinking? If he hadn’t gone he wouldn’t have lost his leg. Lori wouldn’t have lost her life. For her sake he would try to be patient.

“I’m sure this is a very hard time for you. How is Carl holding up?” he asked about his pseudo-grandson. He couldn’t imagine how the boy was handling all of this. Especially with his mother’s short fuse.

“We’re fine,” was her clipped reply.

“Could I speak to Carl?” it would make him feel ten times better just to hear the boy’s voice.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Lori said.

“Will you call and let me know when Rick wakes up?” Hershel asked, knowing full well that the man would be waking up to a changed world.

“Sure thing,” she hung up without asking for his number. He shook his head at her. The woman would never change. He hoped that if Rick didn’t remember he’d wise up to her sooner. Poor Carl, having to put up with the whole situation. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the boy to remember or not.

After that he struck out with everyone in their group. Until he called Michonne.

“District Attorney Michonne Anthony’s office, my name’s Conner how can I help you?” a young man answered.

“My name is Hershel Greene I’m-“

“Oh, good someone finally called,”

“What?” the farmer asked confused.

“The District Attorney gave me a list of names of people she was expecting calls from two weeks ago. Here let me patch you through,” he said, not knowing the relief he gave to an old man. At least someone remembered.

“Michonne speaking,” a tense voice came on the line.

“Hey Michonne, I don’t know if you remember-“

“Hershel! Oh, finally I thought I was going crazy,” she breathed a sigh a relief.

“So did I until my farm hand remembered,” Hershel offered.

“God this is crazy. One minute I’m getting my head bashed in by a marauder, the next Andre wakes me up with his crying,” she sounded like she’d finally relaxed. Well as much as she was able to.

“I guess no one around you remembers. Have you spoken to anyone else?” he asked.

“Unfortunately I have to watch who I call. Some of the family would look mighty suspicious if I called them. What about you, other than your farmhand have you talked to the family?” she asked.

“Unfortunately you’re the only one I’ve been able to get ahold of that remembers. Can’t speak for Glenn, boy moves around too much to have accurate contact information. Daryl was always off the grid. And Rick…”

“What, what about Rick?” Michonne pressed.

“Our leader is already in a coma,” he rubbed at his thinning hair.

“Shit,” she cursed.

“You know what this means right?” he asked.

“Yea, the world’s about to see the dead rise outside of hollywood. Shit. What about Carl?” she asked.

“Lori wouldn’t let me talk to him, woman hasn’t changed,” he sighed.

“She likely doesn’t remember. What about Shane?” she asked, her voice deceptively calm. Anyone else would doubt she cared. She did though. Very deeply.

“I didn’t feel the need to contact that dangerous son of a bitch,” Hershel snorted. Shane had more than likely killed Ottis. A man he’d known most of his life. Not to mention that kid. Yea, they wouldn't be bringing anyone back to the farm this time. No one outside of family.

“I get that. I wouldn’t want to call up any of our enemies to see if they remembered either,” Michonne agreed.

“I’ve made some changes to the farm. I know we’ll wind up at the prison, but I figured it would be best to prepare,” he informed with his chest puffed out in pride. On the off, very slim chance that the dead didn’t come back he could see his relatively small operation booming after the improvements he’d made. If that happened he fully intended to build some cabins throughout the property and invite up the family. He hadn’t told Jimmy this and he didn’t want to mention it to Michonne. It seemed like too much hope.

“Good thinking,”

“Why don’t you and your family come on out to the farm. You’ll be safer here. I’d feel better knowing that we have a trained fighter,” he offered. Jimmy hadn’t lasted too long. He was brave and smart, driving the RV into the barn like he did. Hershel was sure with some training the boy would survive.

“I would but I don’t think I can get off. Even if I could I doubt that I could convince Mike and Terry to go with me. Not this soon,” she confided.

“I don’t want you to loose Andre,” Hershel said in a soft voice after a moment of silence.

“I won’t, not this time. Besides Judith needs someone her age to play with,” Michonne sounded more confident than she probably was. Their talks wandered into preparing for what was to come.

About a week later the disease had gotten so far spread that he decided to pull the girls out of school. They had protested, so had the school. He didn’t care, swore up and down that the school would be closing soon itself. They called him crazy. Two weeks after he had pulled them out the school did close.

That week he had sent Jimmy and one of the other hands to get supplies from the store. Non-perishables and water. Things they’d need in order to start canning the bounty of their garden. As much medical supplies as they could get. He had made sure to give Jimmy a gun. The young man had been nervous, but had taken it anyway. Everyone called him crazy. His wife and kids were looking at him with concern.

Jimmy called his family and ordered them to come up. There were four in all. Jimmy’ mom and dad, along with his younger sisters. When they arrived on the farm Hershel stopped them. Checking each over for any symptoms of illness. Which was a good thing as Jimmy’ youngest sister was sick. Unwilling to risk his family Hershel had Otis set up a cot in the shack they’d held the boy at. It was made as comfortable as possible. The family had protested, but those were his terms. Jimmy’s mom sat with the girl as she died. Hershel had been standing next to her. Knowing the girl was doomed he was still a doctor, even if he was only a veterinarian, and had done his best to ease her passing.

He thanked God that the girl hadn’t woken up. No one else got sick.

The days dragged on. Hershel ordered the herds brought closer to the house. He kept a heifer, calf, and bull in the barn at all times. They’d be easier to evacuate and they would be all that was needed to start a new herd. He did the same with horses and the sheep he’d bought.

Things had gotten pretty desolate according to Maggie and Glenn after their last run. Everything was picked over. Hershel realized that they would need to be able to make their own fabrics. So he bought a spinning wheel off of amazon before things went any further south in the present. Past. This was giving his old head a serious ache. After that he shut the world out.

One morning he woke up and looked out at the land. It was quiet and still, as it had been when he’d looked at it all those months ago. Now though the sense of danger had crept in. He had turned off the news. It was all too upsetting to watch again. His family would be getting an education first hand on how the world had changed. It would be happening soon if his recollection was right.

Hershel was sitting on the porch with his wife and son. All quiet. Waiting. His son sat up straiter.

“There’s someone out there,” Shawn said, almost to himself. That caught Hershel’s attention. He looked in the direction his son pointed, but couldn’t quite make it out. He should have gotten glasses while he had the chance.

“Honey, go get my gun,” Hershel told his wife.

“You can’t be serious, what if it’s someone we know?” she demanded

_Most of the people we know are dead_ , Hershel groused in his head.

“Someone we know would have called ahead or come by the road,” He stood up and walked towards the edge of the porch. Who ever it was was shuffling. Either someone injured or…a walker.

“What if they’re lost and hurt?” his son demanded, “You’ve always said that we should help those in need.”

“These are strange times. We need to proceed with caution,” he turned to Annette, “my gun?”

“Can I have a word with you?” she headed up towards their room expecting him to follow. He had half a mind not to. The walker was a ways off though and he needed to convince her not to go out without precaution.

He should have known better. They disintegrated into an argument. Which lasted until Jimmy came barging in shouting, “Your son just went with Chris to see the stranger!”

Hershel ran down the stairs and out the door. He saw where his son and the farm hand were. There was no way he’d catch them.

“Damn,” he cursed as he rushed back inside. He got the gun off the mantel. He had to take the time to load it, because he had stupidly kept the ‘no loaded guns’ rule in place. By the time he got back out the young men had made their way to the walker.

He tried to line up a shot but he couldn’t see well enough.

“What are you doing?” Annette demanded.

“Trying to save your son,” Jimmy defended him.

“With a loaded weapon?” she shouted. Her protests were downed out by the scream of Chris who had just had his neck bitten from what Hershel could tell.

“Oh my God! Hershel do something!” Annette started screaming. The others started coming out of the house and from the surrounding property.

“I can’t, my eyes aren’t good enough. Might hit Shawn,” Hershel lowered his weapon, about to start running to get closer. He couldn’t loose his son. Not again. A shot rang out. The walker’s head exploded. Hershel turned to see Beth standing with one of the other rifles. A stoney expression on her face that reminded him of Daryl.

“Better hurry ‘fore he gets up,” she muttered running past with her gun still at the ready. When they reached the carnage his wife was sobbing holding their son. Brain matter scattered over the grass. Ottis lost his lunch. Hershel and Beth had their guns trained on the man who’d had his throat ripped out. Knowing he could reanimate at any moment. Jimmy stood away from the group with his hand gun, scanning their surroundings.

“Why did you shoot him?” the boy demanded, looking at Hershel.

“He just ripped out Chris’ throat,” Hershel didn’t look away from the corps.

“The man was clearly sick. He needed help!”

“That thing was beyond help,” Beth huffed.

“You don’t know-“ he was cut off when the corps reanimated. It’s mangled throat making raspy gurgling sounds.

“See that? Man’s had his thought bit out. He’s dead,” Hershel says before shooting him in the head.

“It’s like rabbis, spread threw bites or the illness. Help Jimmy move the corpses to the edge of the property. Beth, stand guard,” Hershel ordered. He remembered how Michonne had told him she used Mike and Terry to mask her. Maybe he could do the same with the farm.

“What is going on?” his wife sobbed.

“The dead are rising from the grave,” Beth’s tone was sarcastic.

“Like the second coming?” she asked

“I don’t think God is responsible for this one,” Hershel shook his head, “From now on we set up a watch. No one goes anywhere without a weapon of some kind. We travel in twos now.”

Jimmy and Beth were quick to follow orders. His son less so, he seemed disgruntled by the turn of events. He’d learn though. He had to. Hershel wasn’t even a task master. Not like Rick and Daryl. He couldn’t wait for the rest of the family to get here so he no longer had to be leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope all of my readers are doing good today. Hope this up date brought you smiles.
> 
> But I know what ya'll have waiting for: Voting
> 
> Issue #1: there is still one more chapter for you to suggest names so don't feel like you have to vote for one of these. Without further ado here were your suggestions.  
> Coming in at number one: Artemis with 5 votes  
> At a close second: Lelantos with 4 votes  
> Orion has 2 votes  
> Apollo only has 1
> 
> If you want to cast your vote for one of these four go ahead, or you can suggest your own. 
> 
> Issue #2: For this one there are two more chapters left to vote. So far in the polls Yes Mpreg vs No Mpreg
> 
> Yes Mpreg is in the lead with 11 votes, but will it be able to maintain it's current momentum?
> 
> No Mpreg has fallen behind with 7 votes, barely over half the number that Yes Mpreg has
> 
> Remember there's still time to vote
> 
> Now I didn't ask for ya'll to vote on this but a lot of people who have voted Yes Mpreg have also made suggestions about whether it would be Rick or Daryl carrying our favorite li'l ass kicker. Now I do reserver the right to over rule ya'll on this issue so even if Yes Mpreg wins I'm still going to pick whichever one I want to have a baby bump. Of course No Mpreg might catch up, who knows?
> 
> Daryl: 5  
> Rick: 6
> 
> Alright everyone I hope you've enjoyed the newest chapter in this series. Have a good day...or night depending on where you live and when you decide to read this.


	3. Ventura Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dixon brothers get into it. Carl's sass. The group runs into some old friends. And the group finally learns how Rick, Daryl, and Michonne met, or well I guess they just get a good story. Or not so good for Daryl and Rick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer*  
> As someone who has had panic attacks I just want to say that this is not how they work. I am a writer and I took creative liberties. I am sorry if this offends anyone. If it does offend you feel free to skip this chapter or stop reading this fic. I hope you will continue reading though.

Daryl was ready to get off of his bike by the time Rick’s voice came over the walkie-talkie. They’d driven most of the day. Trying to get to their destination as quickly as they could. It was slow going due to the different traffic jams they’d meet on the road. Unlike the motor cycles and most of the cars, the RV couldn’t weave in and out of the traffic or go off road. It felt like they stopped every couple of miles just to move cars. This also gave them an opportunity to raid the cars for supplies which were always needed.

“There should be an exit up here with a roadside park,” Rick suggested through the walkie-talkie.

“Good a place as any to stop,” Daryl called back. He revved his engine and shot up ahead of his brother to lead the way. When he got to the exit he slowed to a stop.

“Hold on Rick, we got company,” Daryl looked out at the RVs gathered in the parking lot. There were a bunch of other cars too. All tricked out with bars over the windows. Something about the cars tickled at the back of his mind. He could see grills going at the little covered eating areas.

“Get out of there!” Rick ordered. It was too late the motor cycles had been too loud, the people knew he and Merle were there. Guys were walking towards them with improvised weapons.

“Take the family back to the last mile marker,” Daryl shut off his bike and held up his hands.

“Daryl!” Merle hissed. He looked ready to run. With this many people there was no way they could fight their way out. Something felt familiar about these guys.

“We were just looking for a place to bed down for the night. Didn’t mean to cause no commotion,” Daryl called out. A big man stepped closer to him. It was the guys from the old folk’s home.

“I know you,” the nurse said pointing at Daryl.

“We met in Atlanta, you work at that old folks home. I’m Daryl Dixon,” Daryl nodded. Merle was blessedly keeping his mouth shut.

“Felipe, and it was a Long Term Care Facility, what are you doing here?” the nurse, Felipe, asked.

“Anyone else I know here?” Daryl asked instead. He’d already told them what they were doing here.

“Yea, Guillermo is kind of our leader now,” Felipe informed him.

“Good man. Think it would be alright if I called Rick, got him down here?”

“That goodie-goodie sheriff still running around?” the man smiled broadly. The rest of the haphazard gang settled down at hearing the big man speak so calmly.

“Hey don’t go poking fun at my fella,” Daryl defended good naturally. He knew it would earn him and Rick some odd looks. This wasn’t a typically violent crowd though, not unless one of their own was threatened. There was no point hiding their relationship. Especially with the family knowing.

“Really now? Good for you two,” Felipe laughed, “get him over here. It’ll be good to see him again.”

“Hey Rick good news,” Daryl said into the walkie.

“Thank god you’re alright,” Rick breathed. He sounded on the verge of a panic attack. Daryl felt guilty for that. Rick knew good and well that he could handle himself, so could Rick. That didn’t mean that if their roles were reversed that Daryl would be any less worried.

“Ran into some people we met in Atlanta back in the day,”

“Your kidding me,” Rick chuckled. Right then Guillermo walked up

“Think it would be okay to bring our group in?” Daryl asked the janitor.

“You got a bag of guns?” Guillermo asked, only half joking. It was clear that the man had been more prepared, but it looked like they didn’t have many fire arms in their camp. Daryl was fairly certain that most of the guys in Guillermo’s group had records, at least in their youth. At least a few should have known where to get guns on the black market. He’d only briefly met Guillermo last time, but the guy reminded him of Rick in some ways. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to do anything illegal.

“Oh, we’ve got better than that,” he assured. He couldn’t say how attached Michonne was to her museum raid. He and Rick had quietly decided to leave her in charge of distributing the weapons when and to whomever she chose.

“The more the merrier, but I’ll be expecting a conversation with you and Rick latter,” Guillermo nodded.

“Guillermo says its okay to bring the family in,” Daryl said over the walkie.

“Be there in a few,” Rick promised. Daryl got off the bike to go shake hands with the two men in charge of the group. He introduced his brother to the two men. When Merle was about to open his big mouth Daryl dug his elbow into his brother’s ribs. When the rest of the group pulled up Rick told them to stay in the cars while he and Daryl ironed out an arrangement with Guillermo.

They stepped away from the two groups so as not to be over heard.

“Good to see you’re alive. Wasn’t sure what would happen to you when we left,” Guillermo shook Rick’s hand.

“Glad to see you made it out of Atlanta. Later on we found out that someone had come threw and just about destroyed everyone,” Rick told him.

“Yea, some crazy man calling himself the Governor. Killed all the old folks and most of my guys. Only five of us made it out last time. Wasn’t going to stick around for that,” Guillermo ran a weary hand over his head.

“I’m sorry, but I’m glad you two remember and got everyone out,” Rick told them.

“Not everyone, but most,” Felipe said with a sad face. Daryl figured as much. Guillermo had said the first time that the whole reason they hadn’t just up and left the city was because a lot of the old folks couldn’t travel. That must be the reason for all the RVs. More comfortable for the elders.

“We’ve got a doctor in our group who can look over your people,” Rick offered. Guillermo’s eyes widened. Doctors had been some of the first to go. They were around the infected too much. Then the Army in their desperation killed everyone in the hospitals. It left the doomed world at an even greater disadvantage.

“How’d you find one of those?”

“He was a small town ER doctor traveling with his family to Atlanta when I woke up from my coma. If I’d known he was a doctor last time around I’d have insisted he and his boy come with me. Wish I had anyways, met up later and he’d lost his boy. Things are good now though,” Rick explained, torn by his past decisions.

“I’m glad things have worked out this way. I honestly didn’t plan much past getting out of Atlanta. We’ve been here a couple of days trying to decide where to go next. We wound up going south last time on account of the warmer temperatures, but we don’t know where to go with the elders,” Guillermo confessed.

Rick looked at Daryl then. Daryl knew that look. Rick wanted to do the right thing and bring them into the group. He was torn though because they only had so much in ways of supplies. They also had to think of the elders turning as soon as they dropped dead. Of course if they were at the prison it wouldn’t be such an issue. They could lock the elders in at night. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than leaving them to die and be reborn to kill others. Or leaving them to die on the side of the road.

“Right now we’re heading to the farm of a friend from last time. He remembers. After that we’re going to go to a prison, but the rest of our group doesn’t know that yet,” Daryl said. It would be good to have the extra fighters and people who could work on cars.

“A prison? Are you crazy?” Guillermo asked.

“We went there last time. It’s got a walker infestation but once those are cleared out it’s safe. Thick walls to keep out the elements. An infirmary that’s hospital grade. A double lining of fence to keep things out, triple if you count the inner fence. We can easily start a farm inside the walls. There’s enough space for everyone,” Rick told him.

“It’s the closest thing we ever had to home,” Daryl added.

“It sounds real good Guillermo,” the nurse agreed.

“There’s just one thing you should know before deciding to come with us. The Governor is set up not far away. We’re hoping to get ahold of a sniper rifle, but odds are we will wind up going to war,” Rick warned them.

“Can we talk it over?” Guillermo asked. The man looked tempted, but was reasonably hesitant.

“Sure thing, just know that no matter where you settle down people like the Governor will pop up. We went to about three more places after the prison, each fell victim to predators like him,” Rick warned.

“Also just don’t go any place called Terminus. It was originally meant to be a sanctuary but the idiots advertised along the railroad tracks and attracted some cannibals,” Daryl added. The pair looked a little pale after that. Rick glared at him, but he just shrugged back. He was just trying to warn them of other pitfalls they’d fallen into. If that encouraged them to merge groups all the better.

“In the mean time we’ve got our own supplies, which we’re happy to combine with yours for meals,” Rick told them.

After that talks dissolved into where the group could set up camp. They’d probably stay an extra day to let the groups get used to each other before cramming everyone onto the farm. Daryl had a feeling that they’d be combining groups. When things were settled he and Rick went back to their caravan to tell the group the good news.

“What’s going on?” Shane was pacing up and down the row of cars. Apparently too nervous to sit quietly like everyone else. Well, actually everyone looked like they were on a hair pin trigger. Just waiting to be attacked. Except for Morgan and Michonne who were taking everything in stride. Morgan was cleaning a shot gun, and Michonne was running a wet stone over her sword.

“Turns out this group is being led by some old acquaintances. They might look a little rough, but these are good people,” Rick promised.

“They look like gangbangers!” Lori hissed, refusing to leave her car.

“These guys worked at or had elders in a long term care facility. They were the only ones who bothered to take care of their elders when SHTF. Mess with their family and they’ll show you how tough they are, but they won’t do anything unprovoked. So Merle don’t provoke them,” Daryl teased. It got the group laughing, which is what he wanted. They needed to loosen up or drama was bound to start.

Might start anyway from the stink eye Lori was giving him. He hoped she could hold off until they reached the farm. While still not as secure as the prison, he’d feel better about her doing whatever she was planning at the farm than on the road.

“Morgan if you could look over the elders and anyone else who needs a doctor it would be much appreciated,” Rick asked

“Of course, I’ll be taking my new apprentice along. It’s a perfect opportunity for her,” Morgan waved Carol over. The group clapped to honor her.

“I’ll introduce you to the nurse who’s also the second in command. He’ll be happy to fill you in on patient history,” Rick nodded.

“Michonne, Mike, Terry go put up a permitter alarm system. We’ll get Guillermo to send two of his people with you to help. This may or may not be permanent so they need to learn the tricks of the trade,” Daryl instructed.

“A permanent arrangement?” Andrea looked uncomfortable. She put a protective arm around Amy, drawing her sister closer. Daryl had to keep reminding himself that if he didn’t know these guys he’d be doing the same thing with Carl and Judie, if she were there. It irked him how they still formed their opinions on the way people looked. They hadn’t trusted him near their kids when he’d first entered the camp either time. Yet he could easily recall more than a dozen people they’d trusted right off the bat who’d turned out to be threats. Why were those people trusted? Because they somehow managed to look better than everyone else in the apocalypse!

“Maybe, nothing is decided yet. If anyone gives you trouble you come to me or Guillermo. That goes for everyone here. Be warned that Guillermo will come to me if anyone in our group harasses theirs,” Rick cautioned.

With that the family stated unpacking. Tents were swiftly assembled under Daryl’s watchful eyes. He had them set up in a semicircle with the RV forming the flat end of the circle. It gave them a barrier and a good place to put their kids incase of an attack.

Amy was placed in charge of the kids, though really they all kind of knew that Carl was the one really in charge. The new group watched them with unbridled joy, and sadness. Daryl guessed that many of them had kids of their own. Where those kids were now was anyones guess.

Andrea, while still cautious, helped to make supper. She wound up laughing along with the two older men who were cooking. Listening to them complain how the younger boys couldn’t cook worth a darn so they had to do all the cooking themselves.

Dale was messing with the RV, Glenn at his side. Some guys from Guillermo’s group came to offer their help. Dale was happy to go off to talk to people his own age. Glenn was clearly intimidated, but as the guys working on the RV got into what they were doing the Korean man hung off every word they said.

There were only two problems. Lori, who’d sequestered herself in her tent. And Merle, who was being an ass. Lori was fine where she was as far as everyone else was concerned. Merle on the other hand…

“So ya señoritas got anything stronger than piss warm beer to drink? How ‘bout some o’ that Mexican tequila, it really as strong as you aliens say it is?” Merle egged them on. Daryl wanted to strangle his brother. With each passing insult he could see the group’s faces grow redder. Guillermo was looking none too pleased.

“Hey Merle!” Daryl called as he made a large circle in the dirt with his foot.

“What ya want lil bro, kind of busy,” Merle said with that half crazy smile. It got like this after he’d been kicked out of the military. If he could go long enough without the drugs. If he could be his normal asshole self, Merle would wind up itching for a fight. It was probably why he was bing so insulting at the moment. Daryl would just have to give him a more controlled version of what he was asking for.

After drawing a large circle with his toe he asked, “How about a little sparing?”

That manic smile just got bigger as Merle made his way over. Michonne stepped up.

“I want a good fight, no low blows. When I say it’s over, it’s over-“

“Why does she get to decide?” Merle spit.

“Because,” she unsheathed her sword and tapped it gently against his face, “I’m the one with the sword.”

“Don’t argue with Athena, Uncle Merle,” Carl pulled up a respectable distance from the circle. The other kids were at his sides.

“The first person to step outside the circle forfeits,”

“An’ no illegal holds!” Daryl tossed in Rick’s direction. He heard Rick snort, getting his reference.

“Can we just fight already?” Merle complained. They stepped into the circle on opposite sides. When Michonne called for them to begin, they both came out of their corners swinging.

The fight was a good way to blow off steam. They were still running high from the night before. They traded blow for blow for a while. Just trying to wear each other down. He was surprised that Merle kept to the rules. No dirt was thrown in his eye. No shots were taken at his groin. It was a good fight. The crowd got into it too. Even some of the more mobile elders came out to watch.

“Better hurry it up, dinner will be ready in five!” Andrea called. That’s when things turned serious. Merle’s posture changed from open and almost relaxed, to that of a trained army vet. Daryl’s posture was no less impressive. He might not have had the formal training, but he did have years of experience over his brother.

“Easy on the head shots, no concussions!” Michonne warned. Merle’s blows were quick with a lot of strength behind them. Daryl was lighter on his feet. He danced away from the blows which would have settled the fight. While darting in with more precise hits to his brother’s abdomen. He was waiting. Just waiting for that perfect opening.

When he punched Merle one last time it sent his brother stumbling back.

“Daryl is the winner!” Michonne called out to the cheers and boos of the crowd.

“No he aint! Fight’s not over,” Merle protested.

“It was over the moment you stepped outside the ring,” Michonne chided, with a purposeful hand on her sword. Carl raced over to Daryl and he swung the kid up into his arms.

“You were great Mom!” Carl said with a shit eating grin. That had the whole camp laughing at Daryl. Even Merle was clutching at his stomach. Daryl’s ears went pink.

“You brat,” he said tickling Carl. Who only then realized that he’d left himself in a vulnerable position. The boy laughed uncontrollably and called out for Rick to save him. Which resulted in the boy getting a wet willy right in his ear.

“That’s for sassin’ your Mom in public,” Rick teased. Only to let out a yelp when Daryl swatted the man’s ass. He dragged his family back to the cooking fire for dinner. That night Carl told the story of how Orion had won Artemis’ heart by beating her in a foot race. The groups lapped it up.

“How did you two meet?” Shane’s voice startled the quiet that had settled over the camp. Rick sighed, knowing it had only been a matter of time.

“Guess keeping things quiet because it’s an active case is a moot point,” Daryl shrugged.

“About five years ago I caught a case. Started with a murder. The investigation led to this guy was some sort of cult leader. Went around calling himself ‘The Governor’. Seemed legitimate at first. Then I found out he was keeping people chained up in a basement beneath his compound. He was selling off what he called nonbelievers. Anyone who threatened his authority,” Rick started.

“Turns out he was working with a group that called themselves ‘The Claimers’,” Daryl took over, “Human traffickers that liked to use the forrest I was a ranger at as a hide out. Which is how I stumbled onto their operation.”

“I met these crazies when it was discovered that the Governor and the Claimers were connected, never imagined where it would lead,” Michonne chimed in.

“The Governor and the Claimers weren’t even the worst of it,” Rick spat.

“Terminous,” Daryl spat. The groups leaned in. Asking what that meant. Neither he nor Rick wanted to elaborate.

“Cannibals,” Michonne filled in, a shiver running up her spine. The shocked and horrified faces were even more twisted in the fire light.

“So you arrested all these people?” Andrea trembled.

“Not exactly,” Rick said.

Michonne started to explain, “During the course of the investigation we found out there was someone else involved. Someone dangerous-“

“As if cannibals weren’t dangerous enough,” Glen muttered.

“Daryl went under cover with the Claimers to try to flush him out,” Michonne elaborated.

“It went bad,” Daryl looked over at Rick.

“Before he could meet this—I don’t even know what to call him—this guy. The Claimers ran across me. I was working as Daryl’s back up, just hanging around the town. Trying to see if I could find anything out about him,” Rick said.

“They stopped Rick on the road. Started threatening him. Couldn’t let somethin’ happen to him,” Daryl picked up.

“So Daryl made up some BS about us being old buddies. Beat the shit out of both of us,” Rick rubbed at his neck guiltily. Daryl knew that Rick wished he’d though ahead. Had a plan for if and when things fell apart. Should have learned from the farm. All of them meeting at the place they’d lost Sophia had just been luck. They’d be prepared this time.

“Rick managed to scare them off by bitting out their leader’s throat,” Daryl’s lips twitched at the corners. It wasn’t a happy memory, but he had been impressed by Rick’s actions that night. Actions to save Daryl from being beaten to death.

“You did what?” Shane stared.

“I don’t recommend it,” Rick cringed, “didn’t matter much though. The rest dragged Daryl off,”

“I found out who was really in charge of things,” Daryl trailed off. Rick threaded their fingers together.

Michonne cleared her throat, “I’ll take it from here guys. Man by the name of Negan was really running things.”

“Sick fucking bastard,” Daryl spat to avoid sniffling.

“We don’t have to tell them anything else,” Rick whispered softly into his ear. Daryl winced.

“Keep going Michonne,” Daryl grit out.

“Negan tortured him for five days,” she shifted uncomfortably, “Until he escaped. Farmer named Hershel Greene found him.”

“Why wasn’t this bastard arrested?” Shane demanded.

“The FBI took over the case after the kidnapping, why they didn’t step in when I requested their help in the first place… Anyway the prosecutor didn’t like Daryl as a witness. Said everything he witnessed while undercover was inadmissible because of what happened. He wasn’t in good enough shape for a trial,”

“They weren’t wrong,” Daryl looked up to stave off the stinging in his eyes. He could fall to pieces latter. In the privacy of their tent. With Rick there to hold him. Then he’d hold Rick as his husband had his own break down.

“I wish I’d hunted the bastard down and killed him,” Rick tilted his head. Daryl knew that look. It was the look Rick got whenever he remembered hamstring Negan. Letting Daryl choose what would happen. Rick might have bitten that Claimers’ throat out, but Daryl had beaten Negan to death with his bare hands. His death wasn’t slow enough. Yet in other ways it was too slow.

“FBI’s hesitation gave all parties involved the chance to slip away. Negan’s operations were ceased, but he disappeared like a puff of smoke,” Michonne glared at the fire.

“You don’t go through an investigation like that and not wind up close,” Rick pulled Daryl into his lap. It was something they’d done a thousand times. There had been just as many times when Daryl had pulled Rick into his lap. This felt different though. Outside the kiss that morning they hadn’t flaunted their relationship in front of the group. Daryl wasn’t in a mind to care what they thought. Or worry that they had disturbed people’s delicate sensibilities.

He was half tempted to glance around to see their reactions. It was more likely that instead of seeing their reactions to his and Rick’s cuddling, he’d see pity. If there was one thing he hated most in this world, besides Negan, it was being pitied. So he tucked his head closer to Rick’s chest.

“That’s how we met Rick and Daryl. Me and Felipe worked at a long term care facility. It’s mostly for elders. From time to time we’d get people recovering from sever injuries or illness,” Guillermo added. Good man weaving himself and the nurse into the narrative. He didn’t like how it made him sound, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Why didn’t I know about any of this?” Merle demanded.

“You’d just been court marshaled,” Daryl said by way of answer. Merle had been really messed up during and right after his time in military jail. He was counting on that to make everything seem plausible to his brother. Not that it sounded probable to his own ears. At least he could say that they had really only lied about the FBI’s involvement.

It had the desired effect. Merle’s jaw shut with an audible snap.

“What about me? Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” Shane glared at Rick.

“Most of it had to do with it being an active FBI case,” Rick tried to explain. Shane wasn’t having it though.

“You still could have said something!” Shane stood up and strode off. Rick sighed. The huff of warm air brushed along Daryl’s nape.

“Merle could you go after him? Buddy system and all,” Rick asked tiredly.

“Why don’t you go after him? He’s your best butt-y,” Merle sneered.

“Rick’s not going anywhere. Unless you want to help me through the panic attack I’m about to have?” Daryl challenged. Merle looked hurt by that. Tough. It was Daryl’s fucking panic attack. He and Rick had a system. Techniques that worked for each of them. Just because Merle’s feelings were hurt didn’t mean Daryl was going to suffer a panic attack any longer than absolutely necessary. They didn’t happen as often as they used to, but when they did—a shiver raced down his spine.

“Fine, I’ll go after officer dick,” Merle grumbled as he stood up to follow Shane.

“Carl is sleeping with the two of you, just so you know,” Rick added.

“Why the fuck is that happening?” Merle rounded on them. He still eyed Daryl warily. Daryl could already feel his chest tighten. He really needed to get to the tent soon. If he could just get comfortable in semi-familiar surroundings it wouldn’t be so bad.

At the same time Carl cried out, “What?”

“Kid doesn’t need to see this,” Daryl rubbed at the tightness in his chest with a trembling hand.

“I’m fine!” Carl pouted.

“See, kid says he’s fine,”

“Merle you will do this for me,” he hated the way his voice hitched. Carl’s eyes went wide. They’d done everything they could to keep their kids from experiencing his panic attacks. They didn’t need to know that one of the only two adults in their lives could be rendered useless in the face of threats that were no longer there. They hadn’t been able to hide everything. This one was going to be bad though, really bad.

“Darlin slow your breathin’ down,” Rick rubbed at his shoulders with gentle hands, “Lets get back to the tent.”

He shook his head. He wasn’t going until he knew Carl would be taken care of.

“Merle?” he asked. 

“Fine, I’ll watch yer kid,” Merle gave in with an unhappy grunt. When he thought back on the conversation later he would get warm butterflies in is stomach at the phrasing. Merle had referred to Carl as Daryl’s kid. He couldn’t be happier. That would come later. For now he was going to go have a panic attack. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay the votes are getting down to the wire people.
> 
> Issue #1 stands at  
> Apollo: 2  
> Orion: 4  
> Lelanots: 6  
> Artemis: 11
> 
> Alright I have decided to narrow it down between Lelantos and Artemis. Ya'll have two chapters to vote between the two. If you have already voted you can vote again for one of these two. I kind of think Artemis will win, but we'll see.
> 
> Issue # 2 stands:  
> Yes: 17  
> No: 21
> 
> No MPreg has taken the lead! 
> 
> You all have between now and when I post the next chapter to finalize your votes. I will announce what the final vote is at the end of the next chapter.
> 
> On a side note a reader commented something that I thought was a fair point. For those of you who vote yes MPreg, why do you want to see it in this story? I'm just curious and most of the people who voted no Mpreg gave a reason, even if they are normally a fan of MPreg.
> 
> Also people who keep voting yes keep saying who they want to carry Judith so...  
> Daryl: 8  
> Rick: 6
> 
> Thanks again everyone for reading my fic. I hope ya'll have a wonderful New Year.


	4. Oh Brother Where Art Thou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To answer genosha_meiuqer, here’s another chapter

Merle loved his brother. He did. He knew that Daryl probably thought he didn’t. He would have told Merle all this shit when it had first happened five years ago if he did. In prison or not he still should have been told about this kidnapping. Of course his brother had also decided not to tell him that he’d become a forrest ranger at some point. There were other reasons too. Since his brother had only just come out and the story of his kidnapping was apparently also how he met the love of his life—Merle rolled his eyes at that thought—it shouldn’t surprise him.

What did surprise him was the amount of trust and love Daryl had for this Rick Grimes. He had never seen his brother act so cuddly. The images of his brother plastered against the deputy would be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. A brother did not need to see that.

He didn’t doubt that Daryl loved him. They were brothers. All either of them had, had was each other. He couldn’t count how many times he’d jumped in to take a beating from their alcoholic father that was meant for Daryl. How many times Daryl would run off and do something to make Merle smile. Like hunt through an old junk yard to gather parts to build Merle his own motorcycle.

He could admit that it hurt that Daryl had kept so much of himself from him. He winced, knowing it was his own fault. He’d always been a loudmouth. He’d said things in front of Daryl about fags and other shit that he didn’t really mean. It was just who he was. He didn’t mean nothing by it unless someone pissed him off, which didn’t take much these days.

His big talk must have scared Daryl into the closet. They’d been all either of them had. Daryl must have been scared to be himself because he thought he’d loose Merle. Shit. He was such an asshole. Jamie, the gay guy in his unit, had known him long enough that the man knew he didn’t mean anything by what he said. That didn’t stop the man from slugging him in the kisser outside a bar when they were on leave with the rest of their platoon. Jamie had warned him that one day he’d hurt someone he actually cared about with his words. Looks like he’d been right.

At least Daryl was happy. Well as happy as a Dixon could be. Actually come to think of it Daryl had been down right giddy since finding out Carl was in the group. He’d turned into a love sick puppy when Rick had shown up. Merle wanted to gag.

Shane had staid inside the tin can perimeter. The pig had some senses of self preservation he’d give him that. He watched the other man pace back and forth, muttering under his breath. He waited to see if the pacing would help him calm down, but all it seemed to do was wined him up.

“Stupid Rick. Fuckin’ Daryl. Who does he think he is? Taking away my best friend. Keeping secrets…” Shane kept muttering and ranting to himself. Working himself into a tizzy.

“Oi, chica calm yer ass down. I might not give a crap about what you think or say about yer friend, but you keep talking about my lil’ brother like that and I’ll bend you over my knee. Give yer face something to really be red about,” Merle’s taunts had the desired effect. Shane spun around. His already red face turning a tomato shade at Merle’s threat. His eyes went big and round. It would have been comical in any other situation. Hell it was hilarious now, he couldn’t help but snicker.

For a moment Shane gaped at him. Then he seemed to find his vocal cords again, “Shut the fuck up!”

Merle pursed his lips. This wouldn’t do. Merle had his own shit to deal with. Rick might be Shane’s best friend, but Daryl was Merle’s brother. He should be the one throwing a fit right now. Unless this fit was about the deputy’s delicate sensibilities being trampled over. He narrowed his eyes.

“If this is cause they’re both..you know, then you need to get a grip or get packing. I ain’t lettin’ no homophobe near Darylena,”

“No, hell I thought you’d have a problem with that. Yer the one always calling people fags and shit,” Shane looked taken aback.

“I was in the army. DADT might have been in place but everyone knew someone who was. Had a guy in my platoon. Saved my life. Believe me I don’t care one way or the other,” he purposefully left out his time in prison. Shane went back to pacing, though he was no longer muttering to himself. Instead his face was screwed up. Different emotions filtering over his face.

Merle got tired of watching him pace. It had been a long day. Sure he liked riding his bike. Being on the open road brought a sense of freedom he’d sorely needed after prison. Still it was the end of the day and all he wanted to do was crash. This was Rick’s friend not his. He might as well cut to the chase, it would allow him to go to bed sooner, “So what are you all pissy about?”

“I just-“ Shane stopped pacing and took a breath, “I can’t believe Rick would keep this whole thing a secret from me. It doesn’t make sense!”

“Did you know he was gay?” Merle asked. He was tempted to lean against a tree but knew he’d fall asleep standing if he did. Hell if he didn’t wrap this up soon he might fall asleep standing up anyway.

“Bi, and yea since we were in like middle school,” Shane waved it off. That was better than Merle’s score card, but he wasn’t about to tell officer dick that.

“My brother’s been hung up on ‘im all this time. Looks like Rick returns the sentiment, maybe he was afraid of queenie finding out and divorcing him. Not that it’s helped from what I hear,” Merle was still confused over the situation in camp. He’d probably missed his chance to have things explained to him when he’d stomped off the other day.

“Naw, if you knew Rick you’d know he’d have tried everything to make his marriage work. If he’d seriously thought about leaving quee—Lori he would have said something to me. And that wild case isn’t adding up to me. Something of that size should have taken longer than whatever they’re framing it as,”

“So yer just pissed that yer best friend is keeping secrets from you?” Merle drawled.

“No!” Shane winced at Merle’s raised brow, “Maybe?”

“Look I’m tired. So unless you want to sleep in her majesty’s tent I suggest you give it a rest for tonight and come back with me,”

“They still making us bunk together?” Shane rolled his eyes. Merle thought it made the cop look like a teenage girl.

“And they threw in Carl too. Something ‘bout Daryl having a panic attack and not wanting the boy to see,” Merle said.

“Seriously? Should I go see if Andrea will let me bunk with her?” Shane asked. The question made Merle grind his back molars together. He didn’t like the suggestion that Shane would go join the busty blond. He wasn’t sure why but it set off warning bells in the back of his head.

“Yea, no. You’re the one the kid knows. I’m just..I don't know—is step uncle a thing?” he asked.

“You think Rick and Daryl are that serious?” Shane had been walking towards him but stopped mid step when they were only about two feet away from each other.

“You seen the way they look at each other?”

“Point taken,” Shane breezed past him. The shorter man made his way past Merle, heading strait towards their tent. The man’s dark curls catching in the light summer breeze. Merle shook his head, realizing he’d been staring. Fuck he needed to get laid. Especially if he was noticing another guy’s hair twirling around with the wind. Merle shook his head again at the images that brought to mind.

He could ask Andrea, but he’d seen her darting eyes at Shane. The love triangles going around the cop were all sorts of twisted and Merle had no intention of getting tangled up in that. Her sister was barely legal, pretty, but he’d bet she still had her v-card. No way was he fucking a virgin. Not even in the apocalypse. Lori would probably cry rape if he so much as said ‘hi’ to her. Which pissed him off because he’d actually known survivors. He also wouldn’t put it past the manipulative shrew to sleep with him and use it to stir up trouble. Maybe Carol would be willing to go to bed with him. He’d have to be gentle, something he did not saver with a partner, but something was better than nothing.

“You coming?” Shane called, looking back at him. Merle shook his head realizing he’d still been staring at Shane. He hoped the other man didn’t notice that Merle’s eyes were following him.

“Yea, yea keep yer panties on señorita,” Merle guffawed as he followed after the man. Shane’s face had become all tomato-y again. Merle had to bite his tung to keep from teasing him. He didn’t need to upset his roommate. Especially when he was going to kick said roommate out of the tent in order to fuck one of the women in camp. Hopefully very soon. So he could stop wondering if said roommate’s curls would ensnare his fingers if he attempted to run his hands through it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's 2018 has gotten off to a good start. Hope everyone dealing with winter weather stays safe and warm. 
> 
> Issue 1: Code Name  
> Artemis: 16  
> Lelantos:11
> 
> Artemis is in the lead but you have until chapter 6 to vote
> 
> Issue 2: Mpreg vs No Mpreg  
> Well the results are in...
> 
> Yes: 26  
> No: 30
> 
> No Mpreg wins the vote. 
> 
> So there won't be Mpreg, not with Judie anyway. I might add mpreg at a MUCH later date or write a whole new fic. Who knows what this crazy author will do~
> 
> On another note...would anyone be interested in betaing this story? I just went through and reread some of the chapters I've already posted and I kept slapping my forehead. I re-read these like ten times before I post them but there are some glaring errors. A second set of eyes would be greatly appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

The convoy of cars slowed to a stop at the traffic jam. Rick got out and reminded everyone of the rules. If anyone was separated they’d go back to the last mile marker. The kids were to gather in Dale’s RV which would be locked. Morgan as their doctor would also be staying in the RV. They couldn’t risk loosing him and he was the last line of defense for the kids. Michonne and baby Andre also got into the RV. He had Andrea and Amy join them as well. The elders would also be staying in the RVs with their own protectors. Which kept most of G’s group busy.

He also instructed everyone not to shoot anything with a gun or make any loud noises in general.

“If a herd of walkers comes through get under the cars. If you can’t do that then try to kill one and cover yourself with their body so they can’t smell you,” Rick instructed. With that people broke off into groups like last time. Only Shane had paired up with Merle, which was all sorts of weird. Still they’d essentially become roommates so it shouldn’t surprise Rick. Glen hung back with Rick this time. Carol, and Lori were accompanied by Michonne’s men. A few of Guillermo’s guys were fanning out as well. Rick was happy to see them doubled up, copying his family. Or maybe Guillermo had come up with his own rules.

Rick was on high alert. Ready to get the others under the cars as soon as the herd ambled up. He wasn’t disappointed. They hadn’t been there long when he noticed movement. He let out a short whistle to get everyone’s attention, hoping the walkers hadn’t heard him. At the warning everyone ducked under the cars. Rick made sure Glen and those near them were secured. He glanced around hoping to catch a glimpse of Daryl. Not seeing his husband he cursed silently. He’d have to search for him after the walkers passed. He ducked under a car, getting as close to the middle as he could.

He kept a knife in his hand. If one of the walkers caught his smell it would be better to take them out without too much noise. Unsteady feet shuffled past his hiding place. Glen was under the car to his right, unable to squeeze in next to Rick’s bulk. Glancing around he saw Carol and Lori’s terrified faces under the car to his left. He could only hope neither of them would bolt. If they did it could send everyone into a panic. 

____________________

 

Hershel looked out over the land again. It was still, quiet, deceptively so. He knew even now that the survivors of the original outbreak were out there dying. Being eaten alive by zombies. Running out of supplies. Facing other humans. Here though nothing had changed. Well, a lot had changed compared to last time, but not a lot of the day to day farm living had changed.

Ottis and one of the two farm hands had just finished swapping out the animals they had ready for evacuation. They didn’t know when they might have to leave so it was better to have good breeding stock in the barn, ready to be loaded up into the trailers at a moments notice. Still it wasn’t fair to keep them all locked up at the same time. They’d come up with a system of rotating the animals out everyday. Except the chickens. It had been decided that they’d turn one of the trailers into a chicken coup and lock the birds up there every night. It made things easier and guaranteed they’d at least have chickens if they had to leave the other animals behind.

His wife and Patricia were starting lunch. It was Maggie’s turn at the watch tower with Shawn. Hershel worried about his son. The boy was still irrationally angry at him for shooting the zombie and the bitten farm hand. Course he had felt the same way when Rick’s group had opened up the barn and killed all of his ‘patients’ in a gory scene. Running off to drink himself to oblivion.

Maggie on the other hand was itching to get off the farm. That wasn’t going to happen until Glen was by her side. She wasn’t as naive as her brother, she knew that zombies had to be killed or avoided. He doubted that she was prepared for how savage the world was. She would be, Michonne would ensure she was well educated in the ways of this new world. And Glen would teach her all the tricks to being a runner, in due time.

Beth had taken Jimmy to go check the traps on the edge of the woods. She’d been supplying them with a steady stream of rabbit meat since they’d lost contact with the outside world. So they rotated between her hunts and the chickens. They’d probably slaughter a cow once Rick and the others arrived.

He’d been keeping track of the passing days. Tomorrow would have been the day Carl was shot by Ottis. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Especially since there was no need for meat thanks to Beth. He couldn’t be sure if anyone in the group would remember. If no one remembered and Carl wasn’t shot they’d never find their way to the Greene Farm. Someone had to go out to meet them.

Obviously it would have to either be him or Beth. Only they would know all the pertinent details of what was happening. They’d be able to get along with the group more seamlessly. They’d also be able to figure out if anyone else remembered. He remembered Rick being far more trusting when he came to the farm, but Hershel knew that if anyone could convince the group that the farm was safe it would have to be him or Beth that went.

His blond daughter came ambling up with Jimmy, carrying a rabbit a piece. She had a frown on her face though.

“What happened?” he asked. If there was a problem they needed to fix it as soon as possible. In this world problems tended to fester and rot their group from the inside if left too long.

“Nothing, just-shouldn’t the group be here by now?” Beth asked.

“She’s right, Rick should come running up with his son shot pretty soon. Shouldn’t we get ready?” Jimmy asked. Hershel pursed his lips and prayed for patience. The boy wasn’t stupid, got decent enough grades to be weighing the idea of college. Still he’d gone over this with them both. About what they needed to change around the farm and how to move events in a positive way.

“Ottis ain’t out there to shoot Carl though. What if they don’t find us?” Beth asked worriedly.

“I was just thinking that myself. I want the two of you to saddle up some horses and take a set of riffles. Go up to the traffic jam. Bring our people here,” Hershel didn’t say home. This farm, despite always being his home in his heart, was not their true home.

“Let us get these into Mama and we’ll go get them,” Beth promised. The two went inside making their way to the kitchen. Hershel smiled. His family would be coming here, today. He went upstairs to the attic. He’d transformed the dusty place into a sort of dormitory. It’s where Jimmy’ family slept, along with the hands. He planned to put as much of the family as he could up here. He wasn’t surprised to see Jimmy’s father sitting, staring at the wall. He hadn’t been the same since his child had died. His wife was out doing chores with the others. Hershel didn’t even bother explaining what he was doing. He went about putting fresh sheets on the single beds.

The old farmer changed the sheets in what used to be Beth’s bedroom. He had moved Maggie and Beth into the same room. Maggie was annoyed at having to share her room with her sister again, having gotten used to her own space. Beth was more displeased at the thought that her father believed she needed a protector. Which as far as he could tell wasn’t true. She settled more when she found out that he was going to let Daryl take her room. The man deserved a decent night’s sleep, if there was one to be found. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get the group, or even the hunter, to agree to the arrangement if no one remembered. Still it freed up space. Beth’s twin sized bed had been moved to Maggie’s room. A queen now took up the center of the room. He chuckled to himself, hoping the hunter wouldn’t mind the pink walls.

He had wanted to move Shawn up to the attic, but after realizing Shawn needed some privacy decided it was a bad idea. He noticed Jimmy staying as far away from the attic as possible. He recognized the young man was avoiding the grief that surrounded his parents. So a compromise was struck. Shawn and Jimmy would be sleeping in the same room. Besides he needed someone to look after his son. He could also acknowledge that the two boys needed to be able to talk to someone.

Hershel changed the sheets on the empty queen sized bed that served as one of the guest bedrooms. It had become Rick and Lori’s last time. He hoped that the love triangle between them and Shane would work itself out less violently. He’d have to have a word with Rick about it, and he was not looking forward to that if the man didn’t remember.

With the bedrooms set he went out to the porch. Just in time to wave Beth and Jimmy off. He sent up a prayer for their safe return and another that they’d find the rest of their family.  


	6. Ramblin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the Atlanta group and Green Farm are reunited!

The minutes seemed to drag on for hours. Eventually the last of the walkers had gone. Carol was having a panic attack. At least the kids were safe. Rick directed Lori to take the shocked woman to Morgan. In hopes that seeing Sophie would help her calm down. If not maybe there was something the doctor could do.

Rick and Glen walked around checking on everyone. Thankfully no one had been eaten, or else the walkers would have stayed in the area instead of moving on. T-Dog was wincing as Daryl poked at the cut along his arm. When the hunter saw Rick he took two strides and wrapped his arms around him. Rick sagged in relief. He knew they had survived this once, but he still worried about every step they took in this cursed world.

“Alright, T-Dog go see Morgan about that cut. Everyone else keep gathering supplies,” Rick instructed. Daryl made his way back to Rick’s side. He bumped shoulders with his hunter. It was reassuring to feel Daryl, even if only for a moment.

“What are we going to do with the stuff we find?” a young man, barely a kid, asked. With a start Rick realized that it was the same kid they had traded for Glen last time.

“For now we’ll just load it into the RVs and cars. At camp tonight we’ll separate it so everyone has a go bag. Everything left over will be divided evenly between the vehicles,” Rick explained. He received some assessing looks. It didn’t surprise him. Guillermo’s friends might not be outright gang bangers, but they had grown up in tough neighborhoods. They’d learned not to trust anything that sounded too good.

They definitely didn’t trust cops. He would bet they could pick a cop at a hundred yards. Which meant they would know he was a cop, even if he hadn’t been wearing his uniform. They must be doubting his promise of safe haven at Hershel’s. He didn’t blame them. He’d learned the hard way that not everyone was truthful about what their ‘sanctuary’ offered. They were likely only tolerating him because Guillermo knew him.

The group excepted his explanations for the moment. Rick could admit to feeling more relaxed. They hadn’t run into any more walkers while they camped here the first time. That knowledge put him at ease. That relaxed state seemed to trickle down through the ranks. Glen and Daryl were joshing with each other. Mike and Terry didn’t look like they were ready to pull the trigger at any second. Shane and Merle even relaxed, though their silence remained it seemed amicable.

“We campin’ here, or pushing on?” Daryl asked once everyone was distracted. They were both aware of Glenn paying rapt attention. Guillermo and the orderly silently stepped up.

“I don’t want to push the old folk too hard,” Rick admitted.

“They would be better arriving at their new, temporary home. The sooner the better,” the orderly spoke up.

“How much further?” G asked.

“We could reach it before sunset. But we’re still gathering supplies which we’ll need with such a big group. There’s no telling how long the gathering will take,” Rick laid out their options.

“If we aren't fast we could be here all night,” Daryl added. Rick doubted it made much difference to him, unless they were talking about the prison. In that case he’d bet Daryl was willing to drive through the night if it meant they reached their home.

“We could always come back. I’m sure we can find this place again,” Glen suggested.

“There are probably other groups around here. We can’t afford to give up the resources. Not with a group this size,” Rick reasoned.

“Lets at least get the kids and the elderly to the farm. I could lead them there no problem,” Daryl promised.

“What if you get there with our most vulnerable members and the farm has been over run?” Rick asked. They’d been each other’s voice of reason for so long. It was right about now that they’d started becoming friends the first time.

“Most of our guys won’t want to be separated from their parents or grandparents,” Philipe added. It was a fair point. Besides Rick did not want to be separated from Daryl for any length of time.

“We keep at it, gather what supplies we can, then go to the farm,” Rick re-iterated his preferred plan. So they kept gathering supplies. The sun was sinking lower. Rick thought about suggesting they set up camp or push on. Right up until Dale let out another whistle.

“Two people on horses. Not a bad idea if you think about it,” Dale called down. Rick climbed up onto the RV to get a better look. A big grin broke out across his face.

“Michonne, get out here!” Rick called, moving to the front of the traffic jam. There on horseback were Beth and…Jimmy, if he remembered right.

“Beth Green? You look prettier than those pictures your Daddy keeps sending,” Rick smiled. He wasn’t sure if anyone else on the farm remembered, other than Hershel. It was the best way for him to probe the situation. If she didn’t remember it would explain why he recognized her. If she did then it would tell her that Rick remembered too.

“Uncle Rick!” Beth jumped down from the horse. She ran into his arms for a hug.

Stepping back he gestured for Daryl to move closer, “I don’t suppose your remember-“

“Uncle Daryl!” Rick quickly found himself abandoned when Beth all but buried herself in the hunter’s chest.

“Good to see you both again,” Jimmy nodded, far more subdued than Beth, “got anyone else?”

“Carl is with us. We also have Michonne, but you’ve not met her yet. We also have a group of about thirty people eager to get to Hershel’s farm,” Rick said.

“You are going to love it. Daddy got started remaking the farm before everything went pear shaped. We’re completely self-sufficient,” Beth’s chest puffed out in pride. Rick still wasn’t sure if the farm could support such a large group. Hopefully Hershel’s improvements would help.

“Give us an hour to gather what we can here. We’ll head out then,” Rick assured her. Michonne came out carrying her son. She hugged Beth close before letting the girl coo over the baby.

Rick made his way back to the group with Daryl. Everyone had stopped at the arrival of the two people on horse back. They’d been reassured when Rick had recognized the girl. The air around them was calm, but curious.

“Hershel sent his youngest daughter out here. He knew that Michonne would have to come this way. We just got a personal escort to the farm. We have one hour to find and load up supplies. Then we make our way to the farm,” Rick announced. The group cheered and set to work.

As promised, at the end of the hour they hit the road. For the last leg of their journey Rick hopped onto the back of Daryl’s bike. Lori hadn’t been happy about Shane driving the car. He shrugged it off. The woman would never be happy. Carl was also grumpy about not riding on the motorcycle. Still he seemed excited to be arriving at the farm soon.

Rick blinked in surprise at the sight of the armless, jawless zombies standing guard. They were chained in place on either side of the road. Far enough away to not be a threat, but close enough that other zombies and people wouldn’t be inclined to go near. Beth and Jimmy ignored them completely. Going straight up the road without any problems. Daryl cursed but followed them. The convoy followed quickly. Rick could only imagine the complaints he’d be hearing tonight.

Hershel waited patiently on the porch. Rick could have cried when he saw his trusted friend had both of his legs.

“Daddy, I found Uncle Rick and Uncle Daryl up by the jam!” Beth swung down from her horse, “Carl and Michonne are with them too.”

Rick got off the motorcycle behind his husband. He held his arms out wide and eagerly pulled Hershel towards him. Daryl stood beside him, waiting patiently for his hug.

“I got to say boys the group is a bit bigger than I was expecting,” the farmer chuckled.

“We ran into some old friends. They might look a little rough, but they’re good people,” Daryl assured.

“Friends of yours are always friends of mine,” Hershel chuckled.

“Especially the ones that remember,” Rick said low enough for only them to hear. The council member’s eyes grew wide.

“Grandpa!” Carl jumped out of the car and dashed up to Hershel. He scooped the kid up in a tight hug. Rick did his best to ignore Lori’s gobsmacked look.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Hershel whispered into his hair.

“Missed you too,” Carl sniffed.

“Don’t leave me out of the hug-fest,” Michonne came up.

“Michonne, I was beginning to loose hope!” Hershel pulled her in for a hug. By now people from the farm came out to investigate the new comers. Rick tapped his friend’s shoulder and pointed at the confused people behind him.

“Oh, I have excellent news!” Hershel called out to his farm family, “Michonne is here along with some of my other friends. They’ve brought others who seek shelter in these troubled times.”

“Don’t worry, none of us are free loaders. We’ll all work for our meals and share the supplies we have,” Rick spoke up so they could all hear.

“We didn’t make enough stew to feed this many people,” Annette confessed. Rick took pity on the woman. Their group was large and some of them were fearsome looking. She was probably wondering how long it would take them to over throw the farmers.

“We’d be happy to use our supplies to cook for ourselves if you’ll lend us your kitchen,” Andrea called. Amy by her side.

“I can show you,” Patricia offered.

“Hold it. Group this size we need a plan,” Daryl spoke up.

“Well said. Andrea will take a couple of people to help her cook. Everyone else can rest while Guillermo, Philipe, Daryl, Michonne, and I talk to Hershel. Don’t make a nuisance of yourselves. After dinner we will tour the grounds and discuss evacuation plans. After that Hershel will tell us where we can set up camp. Then what chores need to be done will be divided equally among us,” Rick called out for everyone to hear.

“Shane and Morgan are in charge while we’re busy,” Daryl threw in.

“And Ricardo,” Guillermo added. A man with a snake tattoo on his neck nodded in response. Rick made eye contact with Carl and gestured him over. He did the same with Beth.

“Why don’t you two introduce Glen and Maggie. I’d hate for them to get lost in the shuffle,” Rick told them quietly. The pair grinned evilly before setting off. Daryl hip check Rick.

“I hope you realize what fresh hell you’ve just unleashed,” his hunter drawled.

“Come on you two. Best get this meeting started,” Hershel led them into his office. He frowned deeply when the door closed, “This is a lot more people than I was expecting.”

“We didn’t plan on running into G,” Rick admitted.

“Your farm is wonderful by the way. Our elders will really appreciate being surrounded by so much beauty,” Guillermo complimented.

“Elders?”

“He was the janitor at a retirement home. When SHTF he and Philipe were the only staff who staid. Some of the elders had sons or grandsons come to the home. We met last time. Gave them a couple of guns when we found out they were good people,” Rick filled in.

“Only this time I woke up knowing we’d all be killed by a psychopath so I was able to get us out. Didn’t think we’d run into Rick and Daryl again,” Guillermo said.

“I’m glad things are going better this time but this is a lot more people than I’d planned for,” Hershel ran a worried hand over his thinning hair.

“We know, which is why we gathered as much supplies as we could before coming here,” Michonne offered.

“We need to get the prison set up as soon as possible,” Daryl spoke up, “Too many people for the farm to maintain on its own.”

“I have the attic set up as a dorm. There’s enough room for twenty-five people, but five beds are already occupied,”

“Most of my guys will want to stay in the RVs with their family,” G waved him off.

“I need to stay close to the RVs in case there’s a medical emergency,” the orderly added.

“We can draw lots for who gets the attic beds,” Daryl suggested.

“I also prepared the three guest rooms we have available. I didn’t know if Rick would still be with Lori. I knew Michonne would need a room for her family. I also wanted to give Daryl his own room,” Hershel nodded to the hunter who ducked his head.

“Actually,” Rick slung his arm over Daryl’s shoulders wondering how Hershel would react, “we’ll be sharing a room.”

Hershel looked at them, “Well it’s about time you two got your shit together.”

That sent the group laughing. They threw some good natured ribbing at Rick and Daryl.

“I guess y'all don’t want to bed down where you and Lori-“

“No!” Rick and Daryl protested at once.

“I’ll just put you where I was going to have Daryl bed down,” Hershel said. His lips twitched with a secret little smile. Rick narrowed his eyes. What wasn’t his old friend telling them about the room?

“G, you should take the extra bedroom,” Rick suggested. He wanted everyone to see that Guillermo was being treated fairly.

“Actually I want to sleep in the attic. Someone should be in charge up there if something goes sideways,” he said.

“The bedroom has two twin beds, so who ever wants them,” Hershel shrugged.

Rick started, “My first instinct is to put the kids there, but-“

“They cannot be without supervision,” Daryl cut in.

“I’d also prefer not to separate them,” Rick admitted

“So no parent, child pairs,” Daryl said.

“What about Merle and Shane?” Michonne suggested.

“Wha’?” Daryl blurted, his accent coming out heavy in his surprise.

“They seem to get along for some reason. They’re also the two most likely to cause problems with the rest of the group,” Michonne defended her suggestion.

“They have been behaving pretty well. I’d like to reward them,” Rick agreed.

“I never thought I’d see the day. Merle and Shane getting along,” Daryl shook his head. The matter was settled for in house arrangements.

“I’m surprised him and Lori aren't together if you’re with Daryl. I’d also like it known that I am not comfortable with him on this property. Given all the trouble he caused last time,” Hershel said.

“Who are we talking about, the cop or the redneck?” Guillermo asked, “And just what kind of trouble?”

“Shane, he slept with my wife even after I came back from the dead. When we got to the farm he became…”

“Crazy,” Michonne suggested.

“Dangerous,” Hershel spit the word.

“Psychotic,” Daryl summed up.

“We can’t be sure but we think he killed Ottis, Hershel’s ranch manager. He also killed this kid we sort of held prisoner—“

“Like we sort of took Glenn prisoner last time?” Philipe interrupted.

“More like we found the kid injured, abandoned by his group that turned out to be a band of marauders and rapists. We fixed him up and decide to release him, only turns out that he knew where the farm was,” Rick shrugged.

“Another thing that won’t happen this time. I don’t have any pity for him after what he told us his group had done,” Hershel added.

“We took him back trying to figure out what to do with him. Shane staged his escape, killed him. And while we were ‘tracking’ him my best friend tried to kill me. So I killed him,” Rick finished.

“He seems less crazy but we should all keep an eye on him,”

“He betrays the family and I’ve got a bullet with his name on it,” Hershel warned. His declaration left the room filled with tension.

“Beth said ya fixed the place up?” Daryl asked. The tension drained out of the older man.

“We’ll need to set the RVs up for evacuation. We can set the tents up around them, but out of the way in case we are over run,” Hershel rubbed his forehead, “We’re also set up to take a couple of animals with us even if we have to leave suddenly.”

They continued talking about evacuation plans and changes to the farm. Conversation wound down. It was Hershel who pushed the issue of the prison, “I’ve got detailed maps of the area. The different routs we could take. Including the quickest one.”

“I’d like us to start moving in there as soon as possible, but everyone needs a break from all the traveling,” Rick confessed.

“I’d feel a lot better with each of the elders sleeping locked up at night. No offense G,” Michonne added.

“We know that you don’t have to be bitten to rise from the grave. I was able to save two elders. One of whom died of a heart attack. I know what happens when people die and aren't shot through the head,” he sighed. He looked tired. Old beyond his years. Rick wasn’t sure how long the rest of the man’s group had lasted, but it was clear that it hadn’t been easy time.

“The farm is pretty well set up. It took the camp bein’ over run to get our group to leave,” Daryl’s frustration came through his tone.

“Then we’ll be honest. The farm is great, but nearly impossible to defend against any sort of herd like we saw at the jam,” Rick said.

“What if we split up?” Michonne suggested. The whole room protested, talking over each other. All of them had bad experiences with splitting up.

“It would just be an advance group. Clear the permitter and Cell Block C. Start the garden. Things like that. So when we are ready we can move in,” she said.

“It’s late. We have a lot on our table right now. Let’s put a pin on the prison for today. We’ll talk more after dinner tomorrow. I’d like Carl and Beth to be able to weigh in on the situation,” Rick silenced anymore arguing.

“Jimmy too, he remembers,” Hershel said. They all agreed to shelve the topic. For now.

When Rick and Daryl had tried to make their way out to check on their family Michonne had quickly turned them around. She insisted that they take a break while they could before supper. Hershel had nodded in agreement and shown them to their room.

Rick blinked at the room. He was pretty sure it had been Beth’s last time. Only he couldn’t remember it being so..

“Pink,” Daryl observed with a furrowed borrow. It was like he was concentrating on figuring out the exact shade of pink it was. It had always seemed ridiculous that colors could come in so many shades and each shade had its own ridiculous name.

“But there’s a good sized bed,” Rick tried to look on the-the words ‘bright side’ didn’t work in this situation. The walls were already very bright. Rick let himself fall back onto the bed. It caused his shirt to rise up, exposing a strip of his stomach. Catching Daryl’s heated stare, Rick arched his back. Enticing Daryl the way the hunter had enticed Rick not too long ago.

Daryl crawled between Rick’s legs. He let his body lay heavily on top of Rick’s. Feeling the delicious friction of their bodies. Daryl traced a lazy finger between his clothed cheeks. It sent a shiver down Rick’s back. 


	7. Reelin' in the Years

Carl was happier than he could remember being in a long time. His Dads were together. Most of their family was safe. They were on the farm, which wasn’t as great as the prison, but was still a place where he had a lot of good memories. He couldn’t wait to show Sophia and Dwain around.

They wouldn’t even be sleeping in tents this time around, but in the dorm Grandpa Hershel had set up. Carl was jealous of the people who had their own rooms. It wasn’t the ground though and besides he’d get his own space at the prison. Which he was sure they’d be moving to before winter hit this time.

For now he was helping carry Sophia and Carol’s bags up the stairs. It was heavy, making him long for his grown body which could carry such burdens with ease. He hoped he could get a head start this time. He’d already planned on getting up early in the morning to train.

“Someone’s excited,” Carol said as she and Sofia walked up behind him. Carl had made it up a full flight ahead of them.

“I want to show Sophia and Dwain around before supper,” Carl called over his shoulder.

“Supper? He’s never used that word before,” Lorri shook her head.

“I’ve heard Rick say it,” Carol offered.

“You know who else I’ve heard say ‘supper’?” Lori asked.

“Please don’t start,” Carol stopped on the stairs. Carl knew because he couldn’t hear her or Lori’s heavier steps. He’d stopped to listen on the floor above them. Sofia caught up with him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger to his lips. Then pointed at his ear, before pointing down the stairs. She nodded with wide eyes.

“What? He’s white trash, and if he is half as violent as that brother of his, which judging from their fight the other day he is, do we really want him to stick around?”

“Lori, we can’t hold onto our old prejudices. Not in this world, not if we want to survive. Not if we want our kids to survive,”

“But he’s gay, and sleeping with my husband! My son is calling him ‘mom’. How am I supposed to let that go?” Lori sighed. She sounded tired.

“I can’t believe you’re so closed minded. But, if your ex being with another man bothers you that much then don’t let it go. Just keep it to yourself,” Carol took as step but paused, “And you should talk to Carl about how it hurts you that he calls Daryl, ‘Mom’. He is still your son, but if you don’t back off of Daryl and Rick you could loose him to. And that would be a shame in this world when we don’t know which day will be our last.”

After that Carol’s foot steps sounded her stepping away form the conversation. Carl and Sophia scrambled up the last few steps so they wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping. With the noise they’d made it was probably a futile effort.

The dorm was set up how Hershel had explained. A row of beds on either side of the renovated attic. It was narrow, with just enough space for two people to walk down the rows. With little room between the beds themselves. Which meant there were more beds to accommodate people. It was warmer in the attic than the rest of the house, but there were a couple of fans and a window unit to keep the space cool at night. There were a couple of windows put in where they wouldn’t interfere with the roof so there was natural lighting and a way to look out over the land. They were all openable, so they also provided escape routs if need be.

“Wow, was you’re Grandpa expecting a lot of people?” Sophia asked. Carl remembered what Michonne had told him and his Dads about Hershel started prepping after he woke up. He’d blamed it on a storm that had hit.

“I don’t know. He started doing prepping stuff after this bad storm. That’s why he has solar panels and clean water and stuff. I think he set this place up so people could have a place to go if there was a bad storm in the area and their homes were destroyed,” Carl set down the bags on beds that were opposite of each other.

He thought it would be more fun if he and the other two kids could sleep next to each other with their parents across from them. Thinking of the patents had him thinking of Lori. He was still angry with her. And he refused to stop calling Daryl ‘Mom’. Still she sounded sad this time, instead of angry. Lori was his Mom, even if he was hurt by everything she kept saying about his Dads. He hoped that she could listen to Carol. She’d given some good advice.

“Mary, Mary is that you?” a man ran up to Sophia. Carl stepped in between them, not recognizing the stranger.

“My name isn’t Mary,” Sophia shook, clinging to Carol who had rushed over.

“No, you’re my Mary. My little Mary, oh it’s so good to see you,” the man tried to step around Carl but it didn’t work in the confined space.

“You’re scaring her,” Carl spoke up, trying to keep the situation calm. If the man cared for his daughter then he wouldn’t want to scare her. He hoped.

“I’m her Daddy, she wouldn’t be scared of me. Right sweetie?” the man tried to peak around Carol. Jimmy ran across the room then. He gently took hold of the man.

“Dad,” Jimmy called softly, “that’s Sophia, not Mary. Mary is—We buried Mary, remember?”

Sophia poked her head out. The man looked at her for a minute that stretched on forever to the nervous group.

“I’m sorry about your daughter mister. My name is Sophia, and I think I would have liked to have been Mary’s friend,” Sophia stepped around her mother. Jimmy’s father had tears streaming down his face.

“I think she would have like you too,” the man cried into Jimmy’s shoulder. The teen soothed him as best he could. Then guided him back to where Carl presumed his bed was. The man laid down, his quiet sobs shaking the walls. Carl had forgotten how broken some people had been at the beginning. His parents had protected him form some of it, his mind had made the rest hazy. He did remember that those who couldn’t cope with the lose of their loved ones didn’t last long.

___

The next morning

Carl was the first one up in the dorm. He thought that G might be up before him but he continued snoozing. He’d thought the other man would be up on account that he’d been through this world before, all the people who’d been returned had all gotten up with the sun. Just like Carl. He shrugged it off. It wouldn’t be too long before everyone was on the same routine.

He changed into fresh cloths. He thought about doing his morning exercises in the attic but he didn’t want to wake anyone. And the space was tight. Padding down the stairs he wasn’t surprised to see Michonne and Hershel chatting at the dinning table. Little Andre was being bounced on the farmer’s knee.

“Morning!” Carl bound over to them. He hugged them each before placing a kiss on Andre’s fuzzy curls.

“I’m starting training today, best eat something,” Michonne advised, tossing him an apple. He caught it with a depth hand.

“Got your knives?” Hershel asked.

Carl patted one of the sheathed knives on his thigh, “Right here Grandpa.”

“Don’t go past the barn,” Michonne instructed.

“Aunt Michonne I’m twenty. I think I’m old enough to look after myself,” he protested.

“And you still died. If you don’t want me to have words with your Mom and Dad you will do as I say,” she crossed her arms. Andre noticed the change in his mother’s mood. The baby started pouting fiercely.

“Yes ma’am,” he grumbled before realizing what she had said, “Wait-why would you say anything to Mom?”

A mischievous smile crept over her face, “I was talking about Daryl. You’ve started calling him ‘Mom’ as more than just a joke.”

Carl felt a flush rise to his cheeks. Without another word he escaped out onto the porch. Not wanting to have anyone staring at him he made his way to the back of the house. Having the barn on one side and the camp on the other didn’t leave a lot of options.

Since he had an apple to eat he decided to do pull ups. He glared up at the painted wooden beams. All of them well above his nine year old head. He hated being short again. He had to climb up on the rail to be able to grab the beams. He pulled himself up with one hand. The other held his apple. Every other time he lowered himself he’d take a bite. He did three sets of ten with each arm. By the time he was done only the seeds and stem remained. The seeds he pocketed, not sure if they could grow trees with them but unwilling to waste resources.

After the pull ups he continued with his excises. Most of them focused on his arms, core, and back muscles. Archers were the strongest people in the medieval army. He remembered how Daryl’s arms had bulked up with muscle from re-loading his crossbow. The bow he’d been given might have been a child’s practice bow, but it was still hard to pull back. The exercises would help.

“Breakfast kid,” Daryl’s voice startled him, “eat up and I’ll take you and Beth to practice with your bows.”

Carl frowned. He knew that Daryl and Beth were close from their time surviving together. How could they not be? It was just more evidence that Daryl would be just as busy as his Dad. The group was twice the size it had been. Their family was woefully unprepared for what lay ahead. It would mean that neither of his parents would have a lot of time for him. He had hoped that the bow lessons would be just him and his step-dad.

“I promise that if we aren’t exhausted by the end of the day you and I can have some private lessons,” Daryl must have read his expression. Carl had long since developed a stoic front like Daryl. Of course having learned it from him it was only logical that Daryl would be the only one who could read him. Dad too, but that had more to do with knowing Carl and Daryl both so well.

“Kay,” Carl hugged him before they headed to the soft circle of grass the group had decided would serve as a dinning room. Everyone was there. The Vatos and the Greene Farm people weren’t mixing with each other. Luckily their Atlanta group had become a go between. Andrea was doing her best to drag Annette and the Vatos’ cooks together. It made for some very interesting choices of breakfast. It was mostly a traditional fare, with some distinctly hispanic touches thrown in.

Hershel was also helping. He was going around asking everyone’s histories, despite knowing the Atlanta group already. He talked about the kind of chores their skills were suited towards. G joined him when he saw what was up. He and Hershel finished their task and sat together for breakfast. Now they were having a heated, but polite, discussion about…something. Carl couldn’t tell what they were discussing as they jumped from one topic to another.

Dale was happy to tell stories with the older folks. Glen was mooning over Maggie already, a good sign. While some of the Vatos he’d made friends with, Gaspar and Leon, were ribbing him for his crush. This only made the Korean man blush more. Jimmy, having returned and trusting Beth, was quick to join them. It was easy to picture them going on runs together in the future. Course it was just as easy to remember Glen getting his head bashed in.

Carol had found herself a couple of companions in Ottis and his wife. Lori sat with them, but didn’t seem to interact much. Morgan was clearly keeping an eye on them as he talked to Filipe. Amy and Beth were sitting together, having already become fast friends. Beth had confided that it was nice to have a girl her age to talk to.

Merle and Shane were sitting further from the group. They seemed tense. At least they were spending time together. It was good for both of them. They balanced out each other’s crazy. They kept equal focus on the group as they ate, and on their surroundings. They had guns kept next to them at all times. They did this despite that Mike, one of the farm hands, and two Vatos members were standing guard.

Carl’s friends were sitting together with Jimmy’s surviving sibling. The kid was shy but they were doing their best to get them to talk.

Rick was sitting at what appeared to be the center of their cluster. All of his council a few steps away. Close to everyone, but not really sitting with anyone. It seemed lonely. His seat of power hadn’t been so obvious last time. Even when he took over the group during his ‘ricktatorship’ he had always been right there in the thick with everyone. He was in the center now but it looked like everyone had subconsciously separated themselves from him.

“Gonna have ta start sitting with different people during meals if you want to stay leader, Zeus,” Daryl took a seat next to Rick. It was obvious that they were together. They didn’t do a lot of PDA, but people could still tell. It was in the way they moved and interacted. Day to day one might not notice it, but get them in a battle and it was like watching the two leads of a ballet. If nothing else the way they looked at each other gave it away. They looked at each other with absolute love. Like they’d give their last breath to each other. Carl wondered if they had.

“I just want one meal with my family before things get complicated,” Rick handed them each a steaming plate full of eggs, biscuits, hash browns, and a Mexican sausage scramble on toast.

“We’re time travelers, it’s the apocalypse, the dead walk the earth searching out people to eat, and we are just trying to guide this group a little better than last time. I think it’s already complicated,” Carl’s sarcasm dripped from his lips. His Dad’s annoyed eye roll was impressive.

“Carl take it easy. Rick your eyes will stay like that if you roll them any harder,” Daryl scolded, “I think we should have one meal a day where its just us. As much as that is possible.”

“Breakfast works for me,” Rick shrugged.

“I’d like that,” Carl admitted. He had missed meals with his family. He couldn’t wait to train with his friends though. That wasn’t happening until this afternoon. Michonne was going to be busy with Rick’s sword lessons. Then she’d be dealing with some of the people she had decided were worthy of a pre-industrial era weapon.

“Hurry up and eat so we can grab Beth and go practice,” Daryl instructed.

Rick said between bites, “You three have fun with that. You make sure you share your arrows with Beth-“

“Girl ’s already got herself a full quiver. I taught her on the road. She’s been makin’ them in her down time, just like Carl,” Daryl beamed with pride. Carl puffed his chest out. It felt good to be acknowledged like this. To have an experienced hunter and warrior be proud of him.

Practice with Beth and Daryl was great. They had agreed to only use a couple of their arrows for practice. They were making their own and couldn’t afford to have the whole batch loose their sharp edge because they were practicing. Still it was going well. Carl was better, but Daryl assured Beth that it was only because Carl had lived longer than she had and therefore already had a lot of practice. And experience. Beth became more determined by the hunter’s words.

After that they split up for chores. Next was a communal lunch. Carl sat with Duane and Sophia. His Dads were sitting together with people from the farm. G was sitting with the elders listening to them talk about their day as he and Filipe helped them eat. Lori sat with Andrea and Amy, Beth soon joined them but eyed Lori suspiciously.

After lunch Michonne sent out word that she would start training Rick and a few select others on how to use a sword. The elders gathered on the periphery of what the samurai dubbed a training field. People who didn’t have chores wandered over to watch. For the most part it was just forms and positions. Michonne didn’t even have them holding sticks in their hands!

She kept a close eye on his Dad, which Carl was grateful for. When he started breathing heavier she called the first training session to an end. Only to start with everyone, and she did mean everyone. The only ones who were excluded were the non-mobile elders. She had them practice fighting stances for hand to hand. He noticed several Vatos staring at her in aw, only to be glared down by her…Mike and Terry. He wasn’t sure if they were both her husbands or just her boyfriends. Didn’t matter though, they were all family.

Michonne also had them all practice like they were a shield wall. A few people she trusted, like Glenn and Daryl, along with a few Vatos, Beth and Jimmy were given actual shields from her collection. Shane has smirked and said, “I don’t need a shield, I’ll just stand behind Merle. His scowl could make bullets fall to the ground a plead for mercy.”

“Damn straight they will,” Merle puffed up with pride. Shane’s comment had clearly been sarcastic but Merle either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Carl would bet it was the latter. His uncle was smarter than to be oblivious when insulted. Which was weird because he was letting Shane get away with it. When he knew that if Daryl said something like that Merle would have started a verbal, and not so verbal, spitting match with his brother.

They were all moaning and groaning by the time Michonne was through with them. At the end she presented Hershel and G with weapons. It was only fair that the leaders of the three groups had been gifted weapons first.


End file.
